Thoughts withered away to dead bits
Not able to stay alive and thrive
To stand the ground and the pressure test
Nipping out of the blossom
Flow of thought stream disrupted
The expression of my inner world curtailed
I find no words or expressions
To bring out that dammed reservoir inside
Safe spaces I seek out
Space where my thoughts are nurtured
Nourished and taken care to grow
Be it solitude or a teacher’s exchange
There is so much of a relief
The release of the dammed reservoir
To a much-needed freedom of flow.
There are arms to use
The sharpened arsenal of words
Cruel painful interfaces to get around
Of what use are those arms
When there is no real communication
Lack of intensity and depth of communiques
Only Broken fragments of hearts exchanged.